


Black and Gold

by MarshmallowMcGonagall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And angst, F/M, Inspired by an Ancient Greek myth, Narcissus and Echo, as an excuse for smut, sorry Ovid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowMcGonagall/pseuds/MarshmallowMcGonagall
Summary: Sirius gets cursed on the night of Narcissa's engagement party.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Black and Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Houseofmalfoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofmalfoy/gifts).



> The title is from _Black and Gold_ by Sam Sparro which became the soundtrack for this fic.

Sirius pressed his fingers to the edge of the bruising which was blooming across his face, then he ran up the stairs of his aunt and uncle’s townhouse. The front door creaked open with a gentle push and he peered around to see a figure draped in gold pointing a wand at him from further down the hallway.

“Why do you think you’re immune to wards?” asked Narcissa. 

Sirius walked inside and let the door slam shut behind him.

Narcissa lowered her wand and he strode towards her, not bothering to be subtle in looking her up and down. The silk moved with her body, the lamplight offering suggestions of the curves beneath. In her obscene stilettos, she was able to look him in the eye. His gaze lingered on her red lipstick and he leaned closer before turning away sharply and heading to the library.

She followed him and caught sight of the dirt and scratches littered across the back of his beloved leather jacket. There were rips in his jeans which for once didn’t appear to be deliberate and his black curls were more mussed than usual. 

“Sirius?” She skipped after him, unfazed by doing so in her heels. “What’s happened?”

She grabbed the library door before it could slam shut in her face. He was tapping his wand against his thigh and looking around the bookcases which stretched from floor to ceiling and covered every inch of the walls. The gilt on the book spines caught the light from the chandeliers and the shelves looked as though sparks of fire were chasing around the tomes.

“Don’t tell me the great Sirius Black is speechless,” she said.

“Speechless,” he muttered.

“Tell me, then, what has the heir to our Noble and Most Ancient House of Black done this time?”

“Heir?” He looked at her in surprise and gave a bitter laugh.

It had been two years since he was blasted off the family tapestry. He shook his head and poked his wand at the books beside him, there were thousands in the library. He didn’t know where to begin looking for the one which would explain his predicament.

“Sirius?” She glanced at the door then huffed in frustration. “I’m meant to be going to Malfoy Manor.”

“Malfoy?”

“Don’t play stupid.” She looked down at her dress and shimmied as if to get more comfortable.

Sirius’s head tilted as he watched her move. The curves of her body—Merlin, her body—even the bounce of her chignon seemed indecent. Then there was the nape of her neck, the curve of her shoulder—

“Sirius,” she snapped. “Everyone is waiting for me. I only stayed behind because of, well, because of things which don’t matter to you.”

“Things which don’t matter?” he queried.

He knew about the engagement party. Knew about the Death Eater meeting which would precede it. He tried not to think what the Order would do if they knew he was here.

Narcissa walked over to him and pressed her fingers gently to his face. “Yes, things which don’t matter.”

She called for a house-elf and requested a salve from her bedroom. When the elf returned Narcissa ordered them to say nothing of Sirius being there. The elf nodded, handed over a small jar, then Disapparated with a pop.

“What happened?” she asked, softly.

“What happened?” He laughed in disbelief.

She frowned and unscrewed the lid. Dipping her fingers into the jar, she brought the cool substance to his face and smoothed it over his bruised skin. Within moments he could feel the soothing effect of the salve. Her hand lingered on his cheek and he tried to kiss her palm but she pulled away.

“Don’t,” she said, before summoning the house-elf and requesting the jar be returned to her room. “Who did this?”

“Who,” sneered Sirius. 

“Are you just in the mood to pick a fight?” she asked. “Are you waiting for father or Lucius to turn up?”

Sirius pointed at his eye. “Lucius.”

“Lucius did this?”

“Lucius did this,” he said, with his arms held out as if to suggest it was the obvious answer.

Her laugh fell into a groan and she walked away, her hands on her hips. “You’ve been cursed, haven’t you?” It might not have been Lucius, but she could well believe it was his friends.

It was then that Sirius saw how far the back of her dress dipped. How little there was covering her back, altogether. He sank down onto a nearby chaise longue and stared at the small of her back.

“Cursed,” he said, forcing himself to focus. All he would need to do is nudge the straps over her shoulders.

“You provoked Lucius's friends?” 

“Provoked.” He shrugged, wondering if the dress would fall to the floor or simply to her hips. 

She glanced back at him, her fingers hesitating on a book before pushing it back onto the shelf, and chided herself for letting her gaze linger on where his t-shirt had ridden up. He rubbed his jaw and brought his feet up onto the plush velvet, not caring about the dirt he had dragged in with his dragonhide boots.

“I know the curse.” She crossed the library to stand beside him and tried to ignore how tight his jeans were. 

“Know the curse?” He laughed with relief and sank further down on the chaise.

“Narcissus and Echo.”

It was an old curse, and she knew it only because she soaked up everything to do with her name. The rest of the family had the night’s sky. She had a beautiful hunter. Narcissa knew Sirius wasn’t meant to be here. Knew the rest of her family and Lucius could turn up at any moment. Knew every sensible thing she ought to be thinking instead of how long it had been since the last time.

“One of the few ways to break the curse is with true love’s kiss.”

“True love’s kiss?”

“Yes,” she said. “So tell me, why aren’t you at Potter’s little house, fluttering your eyelashes at him?”

Sirius snorted. Potter Mansion was a great place to stay safe in, but it was the furthest place from where he needed to be tonight. He wondered what the chances were and reached out to stroke her leg, the silk moving like liquid beneath his hand. 

“I will not kiss you to prove a point which doesn’t need proving.” 

“Doesn’t need proving?”

He pointed his wand at the door then remembered his attempts at even non-verbal magic had been a disaster. That he couldn’t write, either? He needed the curse lifted. He needed her. He gestured towards the door.

“Your wish is my command, Sirius.” With a bitter laugh, she turned and walked away, shaking her head. “You want me to leave? I’ll leave.”

“Want me?”

She paused when she heard the clink of his belt and the rustle of his jeans. She glanced back and laughed. Biting his grinning lip, his jeans were undone, his erect cock in his hand. 

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, bringing her hands to her face before they swept over her hair. Her engagement ring sparkled in the candlelight.

“Do this,” he pleaded. 

She cast wards and silencing charms on the door, and walked over to one of the tables where there was a tray set up for drinks. She opened a crystal decanter and poured two glasses of Firewhisky, downing one before taking the other over to him. He continued to stroke himself while he took a glass from her and drank slowly. 

She gathered the dress up in her hands and straddled him, keeping her hips raised while his hand moved from his cock to slip beneath her dress and caress her thigh.

Trying to refrain from moving against him, she swallowed, then said, “No kissing.”

“No kissing,” he repeated, before downing the last of the Firewhisky. 

He placed the empty glass on the floor and now his hand was free, he nudged the straps of her dress so that it fell from her shoulders. She leant forward, her hands grasping the back of the chaise when he slipped two fingers inside her. His other hand went to one of her bare breasts and she whimpered.

The dance was old and easy. He knew her body better than anyone else and he used that knowledge to tease her until she was begging for his cock. He eased himself lower down on the chaise, and withdrew his fingers only so far as to allow her to lower herself onto him. Both his hands were soon pressing into her hips.

Her desperate eyes met his gaze as she kept her red lips from his. Her panted breaths hot against him, she knew she elicited sounds from him which no one else could. Not that Sirius could fake so much as a laugh, but she knew the true depths of his pleasure.

“I’ve missed you,” she confessed, resting her forehead against his. 

One of his hands drifted from her hips back to between her legs where his fingers found where she was most sensitive. “I’ve missed you.”

She looked up at the ornate ceiling and closed her eyes as he drew a deep moan from her. This was his curse, not hers. So why was agony chasing the pleasure which was coursing through her veins?

She moved her hips. Moved against him. Moved until he could take her nipple in his mouth. She kept her eyes closed as she came, and his hand dug into her hip until he grunted against her chest with the climax she wrought from him.

She met his gaze then said, “I promise you, that is the last time.”

“Last time,” he said, tracing lazy circles around her clit and eliciting a moan from her that he wanted to bottle and keep forever.

She slipped the straps of her dress back over her shoulders, then slowly climbed off him. While he sorted himself out, she waited by the door of the library and lifted the wards and silencing charms. She walked out first, then gestured for him to follow. About to open the front door, her hand went instead to his face.

She could do this and prove what she knew. What needed to be true. Her thumb stroking his cheek, she leant closer and pressed her lips to his, then she pulled away and opened the door.

The night air swept in and he walked to the top step. He looked back at her. The still perfect red lipstick, the chignon without a hair out of place, the gold silk immaculate.

“Congrats on the fiancé,” he said, the side of his mouth pulling up in a sad smile. Then he turned away and ran down the steps. He walked backwards into the road, his wand at his side. “You sure can pick them, Cissa.”

Then he Disapparated, taking with him every doubt she had been holding onto.

She was about to close the door when Lucius Apparated onto the pavement.

“Darling?” he said. “We were wondering where you’d got to.”

She glanced back inside the house then closed the door behind her and stepped outside. “I got distracted.” She thanked the stars which weren’t hers that she had long ago managed to master threats of tears.

Lucius ran up the steps and pushed Narcissa up against the door. “Everyone is most looking forward to seeing my bride.” He laughed when she smacked playfully at his hands which were drifting to her hips. “Yes, yes, the wedding night.” He kissed her neck. “You smell of Firewhisky.”

“Dutch courage,” she said, letting herself imagine for a moment that the lips on her skin were someone else’s.

The agony which lingered was an exquisitely painful price for the pleasure which still echoed inside her, and worst of all, she couldn’t bring herself to regret any of it. 

Sirius Apparated to Potter Mansion where James was on his broom practising with bludgers.

“Did it work?” asked James, flying back to the ground.

“Yeah, it worked.”

“Sirius?” James landed on the lawn and dismounted his broom, throwing it onto the grass.

“Firewhisky,” said Sirius, as James flung an arm around his shoulders. “I need Firewhisky.”

She was never going to change her mind. He’d long given up on trying, but he had needed to know the truth before it was too late to find out.

And the truth was, he needed her.


End file.
